<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Offerings by saeransboy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006324">Offerings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saeransboy/pseuds/saeransboy'>saeransboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mystic Messenger (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied Murder, Knives, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Yandere, Yandere Choi Saeran, ray being VERY creepy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:34:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saeransboy/pseuds/saeransboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wandering the halls of Magenta so late at night probably wasn’t the best idea. </p><p>Or, the one where Ray goes way too far with his obsession with you, and you find out about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Saeran/Main Character, Choi Saeran/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Offerings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>please mind the tags! also, this is not healthy behavior. it isn't okay in real life, and it's not okay here, either.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wandering the halls of Magenta so late at night probably wasn’t the best idea. You weren’t supposed to be on this floor, but Ray had mentioned that he was just a floor and half a hall away, in case he needed to rush to you.</p><p>The nightmare you had still left your hands shaking, but when you managed to control your trembling enough to hit the call button as he had instructed you to do if you felt unwell, you got no response. A few more attempts yield the same result, prompting you to seek him out yourself. If you told him you were just scared and wanted to see him, he wouldn’t react too badly, right?</p><p>Now that you were here, managing to sneak past the believers rather lazily guarding your floor, you had no idea where to go. “Half a hall”, in retrospect, isn’t exactly the best measurement in a castle with so many twists and turns. </p><p>Walking down the blinding white halls rather aimlessly, you begin to feel anxiety swell in your chest as you lose yourself even deeper in the labyrinth. The halls all looked mostly the same other than the photographs lining the walls, and though you could easily blame it on your paranoia and residual drowsiness, you swore you heard footsteps not too far away.</p><p>Panicking, you notice a door just so gradually cracked open; whoever closed it must have been careless, the locking mechanism not clicking into place. Not wanting to be caught, you linger outside the room for a moment, rushing in and closing the door quietly behind you when you confirm a lack of noise coming from within.</p><p>You don’t bother to survey the room as you enter, instead resting your forehead against the door and clutching at your chest in an attempt to soothe your racing heart. Once the adrenaline wears off, you turn back to the room, curious of what exactly your miracle hiding spot is.</p><p>The once frantic beating comes to a complete stop.</p><p>A low table sits against the wall, a small platform sat at the center of it. Soft pink candles are placed symmetrically and methodically around, perfectly positioned to illuminate the table’s contents when lit. Small trinkets cover the lace tablecloth, such as items of jewelry, a tube of chapstick, a small charm, a comb. They seem randomly selected, but they have a connection that makes you feel sick to your stomach. </p><p>They’re all yours. Things you brought to Magenta that you thought you had either forgot to grab or believed you had misplaced. They sit amongst things you don’t recognize, things that look a bit too... elegant for your taste. Intricate jewelry with perfectly polished gemstones laid on the table, their brilliantness taking you off guard. The next item you don’t recognize brings a furious blush to your cheeks: lace-lined silk lingerie, obviously expensive and in your favorite color. </p><p>Any doubt you may feel about this being dedicated to you was washed away by the sheer amount of photos of you. There must be dozens, even a couple hundred, framed and lining any surface they could rest on. Those that didn’t fit on the table were hung on the wall, taking up over half of its surface. Some of these... were they from security camera footage?</p><p>Between the once-missing personal items, the candid photos, and the two vases of beautiful flowers placed on either side of a rather large photo of you... you knew who this belonged to, but you didn’t want to admit it. He went a bit too far sometimes with his infatuation with you, but this...</p><p>Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, far harder than it had out in the hall, bringing a dull pain to your chest. You stare dazed at the shrine, too shocked by your discovery to hear the beep of a keycard unlocking the door.</p><p>“Why are you here?” The uncharacteristically harsh voice gets your attention, turning to face Ray as he lingers in the doorway, his eyes wide and filled with fear. They flick between you and the shrine nervously. He’s less dressed up than usual, missing his jacket and gloves. One hand moves behind him, obviously concealing something, but you’re too unnerved to press the issue.</p><p>“I-I had a nightmare, I wanted to see you and you didn’t pick up so I— Ray, what is this?” You don’t bother to explain yourself further, too desperate for an explanation that went against what you believed. That wish was worthless and you knew it, but his words still sent a shockwave of unease through you.</p><p>“It’s... an altar. You’re just so wonderful, I thought you deserved it. Do you like it?” His eyes light up with hope, almost sparkling as he looked at you expectantly. Did you... like it? You shake your head slightly in disbelief. It was oddly endearing, but the sheer multitude of photos, the stolen items he had convinced you to brush off as missing or unpacked, the regal lingerie and jewelry... it was too much.</p><p>This obviously wasn’t the response he had hoped for, as his eyes well with tears before he drops to his knees at your feet, clutching weakly at your clothes and weeping.</p><p>“I-I’m so sorry, please forgive me! You’re just so perfect, a-and when I can’t talk to you when I feel so scared that I can’t breathe, this is my sanctuary! Your face, your scent, i-it makes everything else go away. I know it’s gotten out of hand, I must look like a creep and a pervert. It’s not meant to be like that! God, I’m so disgusting, I’m vile, you should hate me, you should kill me, I deserve—“</p><p>You crouch down, cupping his face in your hand to silence him. He stares back at you with watery eyes, lower lip trembling. “Ray... I don’t hate you, and I’m not mad, but this is too much.” He opens his mouth to speak again, closing it obediently when you raise a finger to his lips. “It’s... nice, that you think so highly of me. But taking my things, all these photos... it isn’t right. I’m glad it can bring you comfort, though...” </p><p>You purse your lips, thinking. “I won’t make you take it apart.” The relief that swarms his eyes takes you off guard, but you continue. “But try not to come here too often... use it as a last resort. I’d rather be there for you personally for you to come to this room.” He nods frantically, and you smile. That was a lot easier than you expected. “I do want to take some things back...”</p><p>You stand up, and although his hold on you releases, the pained look in his eyes as you reach for your rediscovered chapstick stops you. He doesn’t want to lose any of it, to the point where the idea seemed to hurt him.</p><p>“...But I guess if they just get replaced, you can keep these.” The tension in his shoulders releases, and he offers you a shaky smile. He probably used it himself anyways, you reasoned with yourself, though the idea of an indirect kiss with him... even after this, the idea made your face feel a bit warmer.</p><p>“Ah... you can take the jewelry, if you want.” His eyes fall on the expensive jewelry. “I thought you would look nice in them, but I never had the confidence to give them to you. It’s all for you, including the... um...” The lingerie. Right.</p><p>You sweep the shiny pieces of silver and gold into your hand, lingering on a rather beautiful ring. It was all silver, except for a brilliant red rose. You stop to slip it on, surprised to find that it fits perfectly. Though your hand lingers over it, you decide to leave the lingerie behind. It’s lovely, but you felt a bit too flustered to take it. You stuff the jewelry into your pocket, cringing when you imagine the untangling process later. </p><p>“My flower?” You smile at his soft tone, crouching back down to check back in on him. You’re guessing he must feel as nervous as you did, the trembling of his hand not escaping your notice. When you’re close enough, he pulls you in for a hug. The bold action takes you off guard, but you return it nonetheless.</p><p>“I’m sorry you had a nightmare...” He whispers, his gentle tone and the breath against your neck making you shiver, “Everything will be alright. I work to protect you and ensure your happiness here. That’s my top priority, and I won’t let anything happen to you.” You relax at his reassurance, taking a moment to rest your chin on his shoulder and breathe. When you pull back he seems flustered, quickly balling up his fists and offering a nervous grin.</p><p>“Thank you, Ray... I feel a lot better now.” You rise to your feet again, heading towards the door. “Don’t worry, I think I can find the way back, and the believers on my floor won’t find me. Make sure you get some rest tonight, alright? I worry about you.” He nods wordlessly, and with that, you leave, shutting the door behind you.</p><p>Once your footsteps retreat a bit further, he hisses, relaxing his fists. In one hand sits a small dagger, freshly sharpened; in the other, a small lock of your hair. He took the close proximity as an opportunity, but he made sure to be very careful; you wouldn’t even notice it was gone. You had pulled back before he was entirely done, though, causing him to panic and slice too fast and too hard, the blade cutting into his hand rather deep.</p><p>As he looks at his injury, feeling a bit irritated as he watches the blood run down his hand and onto the floor, he slowly begins to smile. When he had gripped his hands closed to hide what he had taken, blood had gotten on the hair he had cut off. Instead of ruining it, the blood only got on the ends, the wetness making the strands stick together. When it dried, it would still keep them together, like a red wax seal on a love letter.</p><p>This was a sign. A show of the bond the two of you had now, and a promise of an even closer intimacy in the future. If blood had to be shed for your love, whether his or the blood of others, he would gladly do it. The fact that you put the promise ring on, too... maybe you were destined to find this room. This was just another chapter in your ongoing love story. He would have to wear his matching ring when he got back to his office. </p><p>He places the dagger on the altar as he planned to do, carefully placing the lock of hair in his other hand, not wanting to disrupt a single strand. What an angel you were, to forgive him for this. He hates to go against your wishes, or not tell you the whole truth, but... how couldn’t he worship you? You’re just so perfect, and you were made for him, heavensent to give him a deeper purpose.</p><p>Through his joy, he felt a tinge of anger. He would be coming back for that dagger later; despite the happy outcome, those believers hadn’t done their very important job. They needed to suffer.</p><p>Before he exits, he snatches up the lingerie, tucking the two pieces into his pockets. You were just too innocent and sweet to take them, but he could tell you wanted them. When he came to watch you sleep later, after he framed the symbol of your love, he would sneak them into your wardrobe. </p><p>It was such a small offering for his divine flower.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>